Depressed Debra
by Pretty Persistent
Summary: Sometimes the only thing you can do is hold on to what you have for youself and hope that it's enough to get by...
1. Prologue

**A/N: Although I'm currently working on another ELR fic, this one just kind of poured out of me. I was planning on writing a darker story anyways. Originally this was going to be an entire story, but now I'm thinking it makes a nice one-shot. But I'd like to continue, so I guess it all depends on the feedback.**

**Also, I would like to say that I realize this isn't going to be true to the show's theme, but that's why I'm writing it purely as a fanfic and nothing more. I'm taking the characteristics we see in Debra and shaping them into an alternate story.**

**I hope you guys like it, and if you want me to continue it into a story, please tell me so! I appreciate any reviews!**

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**Depressed Debra**

My name is Debra Barone and I am selfish. Well, I don't like to think of myself that way, but I have to. It's the only thing that covers what I really am: depressed.

I suppose I've been this way for as long as I can remember. But somehow, I thought that maybe starting my own family would somehow cure it. For a while, it did. At first, all I had to do or think about was loving Ray. That was enough then. But after a while, that wasn't it. It became loving Ray, plus our three kids. Loving my best friend, Amy. And loving Ray's crazy family.

Don't get me wrong, I love Ray's family. I love all those people. But the thing about the Barone's is that they're always so carefree, so fun-loving and happy, so... detached. Everything I wanted, but could not achieve.

So over the years, I had to mold myself into the shell of a person who could withstand the situation I was in. Aggressive and defensive against Marie and her every criticism of my many flaws that I already recognized all too well. And then there was Frank. Probably the only person who could truly read me, and yet the only person who didn't care enough to try. So I turned on the charm with my father-in-law to prevent him from seeing my pain that I know he could see if he looked har enough. A busy-body, I was with Amy. Constantly pushing us into social situations and activities that would prevent us from connecting as best friends should. With my kids I became just a stoic figure. Providing them with everything they need in order to keep them from asking questions and getting involved.

Of course, with my husband Ray, I was the worst. I loved Ray more than anyone, and for that, we had to suffer. I loved him so much, in fact, that it hurt. Hurt in a way I could not bear. So I nagged and complained and picked apart every aspect of our marriage that I wanted to make better--all because on the inside, I was pushing him away.

In my situation, I became selfish. At least, that's how I saw it and how I figured others saw it as well. Becoming this way is what I saw as my last resort, my only option. The mannerism I had to take on in order to survive my lifestyle. Sometimes the only thing you can do is hold on to what you have for yourself and hope that it's enough to get by...

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	2. Ally

**A/N: I decided to continue after all. Thank you for the nice reviews. Hope everyone will continue to follow the story!**

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**Ally**

Things for me had been at their worst lately. Ray had stepped up in taking care of the kids more often, usually without me even having to ask anymore. He noticed something in me and he tried to help. But I knew the truth: no one could help me. Of course, I didn't want him to worry, so I did my best to smile for him. I knew he loved my smile.

Convincing Ray was hard enough without having to put on a happy face for my children. But I had to force myself. I couldn't let them see the true story behind their hard-working mother. Of course, that is what I did. PTA meetings, bake sales, sports games, homework. I threw myself into every event surrounding their lives--even some they themselves weren't involved in. They had to know I was involved, even when emotionally I was not. I should've known that wouldn't always be enough.

Ally was a teenager and I was in no condition to handle it. Whether it was school issues, boy problems, hair or clothes... as her mother, I should be the one who's there for her. But as I'd been so withdrawn from everything, she was no exception. So she withdrew from me, too.

It breaks my heart, because I love her so much. I hate to see her resent me the way she does. Still, I'd rather her resent me than know the truth about her mother.

When Ally first started getting older, she would come to me a lot and I would help her as best as I could. In the beginning, that was enough. She loved me as much as always then. But as time went on, her life became more and more complicated in one way as mine did another. Before I knew it, there was a strain on our relationship that Ally didn't deserve.

I didn't have to deal with a lot of confrontation from Ally. Once she realized my emotional absence, she opted to make herself absent as well. Usually, she chose to stay at a friend's house and she spent most of her time at home in her room. Occasionally she would talk with Ray or Amy, or play with the twins. This made things much easier on me, so I chose to let things go unsaid. However, she couldn't always bottle up her anger with me.

We were in the car on the way to school one morning. Most of the ride was spent in silence, like it usually was between us. I pulled up next to the door, excepting her to get out, but instead she just sat.

"Ally, there's a line of cars behind me... I need to get home..."

Her head slowly turned towards me.

"You're always at home now," she said.

"That's not true. I was just at your last student council meeting and Molly's mom's party with you." This was all true. The 'with you' part was slightly debatable.

"Yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. "putting out food, or clearing off tables... I barely saw you the whole time."

"Ally, the cars. We don't have time to deal with this now." I rested my hand on my head, growing impatient.

I couldn't handle these types of situations like I used to. I realized she shouldn't have to deal with these kind of issues. She had to mature so fast because of me. I often forget how young she is. She's only thirteen.

"You never do! If you're not running around at some event for Michael or Geoffrey or me, you're sitting at home, sleeping or watching TV or complaining to Daddy!"

Cars began to drive around us, now.

"Ally, get out of the car! I do not have to tolerate this from my own daughter," I yelled. I hadn't forgotten how to do that. It was my best defense, after all.

"Molly and I want to go to a concert this weekend," she continued, unphased. "Her Mom is out of town and Dad has to work. You have to take us."

"I do not have to do anything."

"Mother!"

"No, Ally. I won't," I stated, firmly.

I couldn't. I'd never last. I'd never be able to fake it for that long. With piercing eyes, she glared at me, knowing my mind was made up.

"I hate you!" She screamed, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind her.

Finally, I pulled out of the driveway.

I'd rather she hate me for being selfish than for being depressed.

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	3. Amy

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**Amy**

Amy and I were going out shopping. It was the best thing to do when going out with my friend. We couldn't go to the movies. Amy couldn't sit through one; she talked too much. And doing something like going out to eat meant I would have to contribute a lot more to the conversation. But shopping was perfect. Amy chatted away while I nodded every so often, pretending to be focused on perusing the racks and shelves. But the truth is, I heard every word she said.

My best friend was so happy. I don't even know how she could be friends with someone like me. But then again, with her happiness came obliviousness. She had been raised so well, but so sheltered. Still, I envied her. But even as my best friend, her obliviousness prevented her from seeing the state I was in. However, lately I noticed her picking up on more, making me increasingly nervous.

Last week I had barely left the house--or the couch for that matter. And that was where she found me when she showed up after not hearing from me for three days. I was curled up with a pizza, already in my pajamas, staring blankly at the TV when she walked in.

"Hey Deb! Where's Ray?" She asked, smiling, as always.

"Oh, he's upstairs, getting the kids ready for bed," I said, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"He's been helping out a lot lately. You must have more free time, huh?"

I walked into the kitchen and over to the freezer, scooping two bowls of ice cream. Things were still rough with Ally, but of course, I let it be.

"Yeah, I guess so," I shrugged.

Handing her a bowl of ice cream and sitting back on the couch, I tried my best to seem engrossed in the TV screen.

"Well, then... I have to talk to you about something, Debra," She spoke nervously.

No, Amy... don't do this. I thought to myself before a casual, "What is it, Amy?"

"It's just," She started, hesitantly, "It seems like we never hang out much anymore. In fact, I hardly ever see you leave the house."

It was true. I stayed at home as much as possible. I'd been attending less and less school functions after my fight with Ally, so the only reason I really had to leave the house was when I wanted to get away from Ray's family during their many visits.

At home I felt safe. Ray, still sensitive to my behavior, pretty much allowed me to act as I had been--sleeping for long periods of time, or just laying around and staring off, thinking.

But I couldn't let Amy know that I did this. So I plastered on my fake smile that had gotten so good with practice.

"I'm sorry, Amy," I said, trying my best to sound sincere, "I've just been tired. Things were so busy with the kids at the beginning of the school year. Ray's been in and out of town. I've just been resting up a bit. I never meant to take you for granted, sweety."

That last part was the most truthful. Amy was such a good friend, and look what I was doing to her.

"Oh, Deb, it's okay! I completely understand," She said, almost guiltily.

Of course she would say that. Easily, she would have let it go at that. But I had to keep her convinced.

"Let me make it up to you! We'll go out shopping next week..."

"Deb? DEBRA?"

I jerked quickly as Amy touched my shoulder, snapping back to the present. I tried to avoid the present as much as possible, because the more aware I was the more I had to accept.

There we were, already at the mall. With Amy, it was easy to zone out. She talked nonstop the whole way there and through two stores, already. This was the way I liked it. Better hear about Amy's life than have to talk or even think about my own.

"Debra, you've been staring at that same shirt for five minutes," she said.

"Oh... well I, uh, couldn't decide if I liked it or not," I tried to come up with a plausible excuse.

"Are you sure? You looked really zoned out," she inquired, sounding a little worried. I had to put a stop to that.

"Oh, Amy, I'm fine. I heard you. You were telling me about how Robert caught that cold," I said, certain she would accept this.

But for once, she did not, "Yeah, I know you heard me, Deb. But you still seem out of it. You've been like this a lot lately. I mean, I know I can talk a lot... but you don't say much. In fact, I hardly ever see you do much, anymore. Even when I come over you seem zoned out..."

"It's fine, Amy. Really," I cut her off.

"No, Deb. I'm not sure you are. That's why I confronted you last week. But when you said you were just tired..." I hardly ever hear her like this. Usually she doesn't like to get involved with my issues.

"Amy, I'm fine. I said I'm fine," I snapped. I couldn't let Amy find out the truth about me.

With a slightly stunned look on her face, she responded, "Debra, I'm your best friend. You can tell me. I know something is wrong."

Sure, it probably would've been easier to just stop being friends with her... but truthfully, I needed Amy. No one could help me, I was certain of this. But Amy was such a happy person, and I wanted that around me. I'd rather focus on Amy's cheerful stories than think about my own sadness.

I sighed, "Amy, listen," I tried to smile while thinking up a good enough explanation to stop her worrying, seeing as today she was more relentless than I was used to, "You know me, I just tend to take on too much. I really am tired. That's probably why I'm zoning out. You know, right? I promise, I'll try and stress less."

Amy hugged me, saying, "Alright, Debra! And I'm here for you, you know that. I'm sorry I pushed the envelope so much. That's just not like me..."

"Well, then let's just enjoy our day!" I said, trying to sound more upbeat, "Just be yourself, Amy. Just be happy."

Please, be happy for me.

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	4. Robert

**I saw the episode "Alone Time" today, and it just made me think of how it could be connected to this story. Like Debra had been keeping her secret back then, too, it just wasn't as bad. I just found that to be interesting.**

**Anyways, I just got back from vacation I wrote a lot while I was gone. Finished this chapter, and the next one I'm almost half-way done with. Please review!**

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**Robert**

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It was noon, and I was on my third load of laundry that already today. Ray was at work and the kids at school, so each time I would just stare at the dial on the washer; watching as it changed cycles; then removing the clothes and putting them in the dyer before started the process again.

Behaving this way kept me numb. It used to be so easy to be numb. It had been the only feeling--or lack thereof--that I felt. But now, it was a struggle, becoming harder and harder each day. With the evidence exposed all around me, I was forced to feel my depression instead of just existing with it. It was the way the twins seemed to long for me, even when I was right there. The way Ally ignored me, other than to scoff at my terrible job as a mother. And especially, the way Ray looked at me as I climbed into bed each night, my eyes stung with tears and his eyes pleading. But of course, I wouldn't say anything and he didn't know what to say.

I tried so hard to focus on the the dial during that third cycle, but these thoughts would not subside. The numbness was wearing off. I could feel my body tremor.

"Damnit!" I cried, not even realizing I had done so out loud. I slid down the way to the floor between the water and dryer, knees pulled up to my chest and face in my hands, my shoulders shaking with my quiet sobs.

"Deb?" I heard a deep voice ask.

"Shit," I muttered to myself before peeking through my hands to see my brother-in-law staring down at me.

"Robert," I started, "I--"

"Debra, are you okay?" he asked, cutting me off.

"Yes, of course, I'm fine," I said wiping my tears as he helped me up.

"But Debra, you were crying. And I heard you yell," he said, staring at me with concern. I couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with him. I knew he was worried.

"I know, it's just the washer's not working right..." I paused for a second, trying to fin a way to make my lie more believable, "Everything has been building up and piling on at once. And... and... I just don't get any help from Ray."

Ray? How could I use Ray? Selfish bitch! I thought.

Robert's face grew cross, "That's not right. Ray's not right. You work so hard and you deserve some help, Deb."

Selfish, selfish, selfish... I hated myself. But it had to be this way. What other choice did I have?

"Amy said you've been pretty stressed lately," Robert continued, "But she told me Ray had been helping out more. Sweet girl, always so optimistic."

Darn it, Amy. I didn't need anyone else involved. Still, it could've been much worse. Even with my condition worsening, Amy was probably too afraid of 'hurting my feelings' to say anything else.

I didn't say anything, but Robert took my hands and forced me to look him in the eyes.

"Debra," he started slowly, "You are such an amazing woman and you accomplish so much. It's not at all your fault if my brother doesn't appreciate you. But I have to know that things are right. You deserve better. I know he truly does care about you, but I do, too. You know how much I care about, right?"

Robert had a crush on me once. Perhaps even loved me. Even moreso, perhaps he still loved me. Though now in a different way, of course. He had Amy. But back when I had been dating and even first been married to Ray, Robert was always saying things like, "Raymond doesn't know how good he's got it with that Debra!" But I loved Ray, so I chose him.

And here I was, with both Barone brothers caring about me more than I could imagine. Yet selfish as I was was, all I could do was blame one in lies to the other.

Robert said I needed to be appreciated, that I deserved better. No. I was a horrible wife, and yet my husband still looked out for me. For everything. And I barely even acknowledged our marriage. It had been different once. I was constantly pushing us to work on our marriage, while all Ray had wanted to do was just love each other. He'd always kept on loving me... so much.

Ray deserved better! So much better. Not me. I didn't deserve a damn thing! I looked at Robert and stammered, "No, Robert!"

My head was spinning. I felt as though the room was spinning around me. I heard Robert say, "No what, Deb? Debra, no what?" No everything! I couldn't think. I couldn't speak. What had my life become? No, what had it always been?

I tried to make up an explanation for Robert. I had to keep him from worrying. Had to... but I couldn't. I was getting too hard.

Feeling a shortness of breath overcome me, I grabbed my chest and fell a bit backwards, placing my fingertips of my other hand on the wall for support. The spinning grew worse. I leaned against the wall to stable myself more. The last thing I heard was Robert calling my name.

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	5. Marie

**A/N: I'm so sorry this has taken so long! To think this chapter was nearly done over the summer. But then I started school and things got really hectic. But I absolutely must bring this story to a finish. There's only like three more chapters, so I'm going to finish it out. I hope there are still some readers out there. Please RR!**

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**Marie**

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I barely left the couch in the three days after my incident. After blacking out, I didn't wake up for up until almost five hours later in the hospital where Robert had taken me. This fact scared me at first, but actually turned out to make things easier. Because the doctors said I was dehydrated—which I'm sure was true, since I hadn't paid attention to anything that day—it made it easier for me to keep convincing people that I was just run-down.

But I wasn't completely in the clear, because things in those following days weren't so easy. I would've just gladly stayed up in my room the entire time, but everyone was so worried that they insisted I stay where they could keep an eye on me. Raymond brought me food, and not to mention, plenty of water, while trying to keep the kids out of the way as much as possible. When Robert called her, Amy was very concerned after the initial shock, and still was, being herself. But still, I could tell that over the past few days, she was trying her best to give me the cold shoulder, as she must have figured I'd broken my promise to be less stressful.

Having avoided most confrontation all week, the worst was yet to come. I hadn't yet been approached by the confronteur herself. Surprisingly enough, with the exception of the hospital, my meddling mother-in-law had been absent throughout the run of my recovery. Normally, I would've expected her to rush over to provider her mothering nurture, while still belittling me, lecturing me on not taking care of myself properly. Certainly, I appreciated the lack of this in my situation.

Of course, the day had to come soon enough. It was morning, and Ray had taken the kids to school on his way to work. Naturally, I was lying on the couch after briefly getting up to grab the toast and eggs Ray had put on for me. My bedrest was probably extending longer than need be, but I savored the excuse to practice this routine. I had only taken the first bite of my breakfast when Marie walked in, without knocking, of course.

"Hello dear," she began, in normal, mock-sweet tone, "How are you feeling?"

Fork still in my mouth, I turned big eyes up toward Marie, only to find her staring at my plate and shaking her head, not very approving of my current state.

"Debra, do you really think you should be cooking when you're sick?" she said, that horrible grin plastered on her face, "I mean, it's a challenge enough when you're well, dear."

I sighed, "Marie, Ray made this for me."

"Yes, well, he never needed to learn to cook with me around," she shrugged it off.

Thanks to Marie's distraction, I was now starving. Trying my best to ignore her presence, I turned back to my plate, focused intently on consuming the food.

"So you don't need me to fix anything for you?" she asked, not having moved from the same position—hovering over me.

"I think I can make do. But thank you, Marie."

"I'm not so sure you can…" she mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"Excuse me?" I retorted.

"Heh, well, Debra… I don't mean to be rude, but—"

"Marie, I'm just sick, okay…" I huffed, trying to shrug her off.

"Debra, don't think I can't see what's going on here! I understand that you didn't exactly start out with the best standards… but lately, things have been much, much worse. This isn't just about you being sick. You've been neglecting your duties as a mother!" she said, frantically.

The truth is, I didn't care about anything Marie was saying to me. I knew that I was a horrible mother. But did Marie? Probably not. It was just the way she had always talked to me. But now, even when it rendered true, I simply did not care.

So I did the only thing that felt common to me.

"You're nothing but a bitch, Marie!" I shouted, savoring the sting I felt on my lips, "I hate you! I've always hated you!"

I even had myself surprised at how angry I could come across when I actually felt no emotion at all. Because really, none of what I said is true. Sure, Marie could be a bitch from time to time, but I did not hate my mother-in-law. In fact, there was once a time when I could depend upon her. But not anymore. There was no place for her meddling in the life of a person as disembodied as myself. It was the last thing I could afford.

"W-well, if that's the way you really feel, dear…" the words fell from my mother-in-law's lips as she quickly stumbled towards the door and left. I knew I had hurt her, more than we had ever hurt each other before. But what other choice did I have? If I didn't scare her off, she would have gotten involved. And even I know what Marie Barone is capable of. And these days, I'm certainly not capable of handling it.

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